Overview

Towers of Midnight (Wheel of Time Series #13) by Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson

Now in development for TV!

Since its debut in 1990, The Wheel of Time® by Robert Jordan has captivated millions of readers around the globe with its scope, originality, and compelling characters.

The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. In the Third Age, an Age of Prophecy, the World and Time themselves hang in the balance. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow.

The final volume of the Wheel of Time, A Memory of Light, was partially written by Robert Jordan before his untimely passing in 2007. Brandon Sanderson, New York Times bestselling author of the Mistborn books, and now Stormlight Archive, among others, was chosen by Jordan's editor--his wife, Harriet McDougal--to complete the final volume, later expanded to three books.

The Last Battle has started. The seals on the Dark One's prison are crumbling. The Pattern itself is unraveling, and the armies of the Shadow have begun to boil out of the Blight.

The sun has begun to set upon the Third Age.

Perrin Aybara is now hunted by specters from his past: Whitecloaks, a slayer of wolves, and the responsibilities of leadership. All the while, an unseen foe is slowly pulling a noose tight around his neck. To prevail, he must seek answers in Tel'aran'rhiod and find a way--at long last--to master the wolf within him or lose himself to it forever.

Meanwhile, Matrim Cauthon prepares for the most difficult challenge of his life. The creatures beyond the stone gateways--the Aelfinn and the Eelfinn--have confused him, taunted him, and left him hanged, his memory stuffed with bits and pieces of other men's lives. He had hoped that his last confrontation with them would be the end of it, but the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. The time is coming when he will again have to dance with the Snakes and the Foxes, playing a game that cannot be won. The Tower of Ghenjei awaits, and its secrets will reveal the fate of a friend long lost.

Dovie'andi se tovya sagain. It's time to toss the dice.

TV series update: "Sony will produce along with Red Eagle Entertainment and Radar Pictures. Rafe Judkins is attached to write and executive produce. Judkins previously worked on shows such as ABC’s “Agents of SHIELD,” the Netflix series “Hemlock Grove,” and the NBC series “Chuck.” Red Eagle partners Rick Selvage and Larry Mondragon will executive produce along with Radar’s Ted Field and Mike Weber. Darren Lemke will also executive produce, with Jordan’s widow Harriet McDougal serving as consulting producer." Variety

The Wheel of Time®New Spring: The Novel#1 The Eye of the World#2 The Great Hunt#3 The Dragon Reborn#4 The Shadow Rising#5 The Fires of Heaven#6 Lord of Chaos#7 A Crown of Swords#8 The Path of Daggers#9 Winter's Heart#10 Crossroads of Twilight#11 Knife of Dreams

By Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson#12 The Gathering Storm#13 Towers of Midnight#14 A Memory of Light

By Robert Jordan and Teresa PattersonThe World of Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time

By Robert Jordan, Harriet McDougal, Alan Romanczuk, and Maria SimonsThe Wheel of Time Companion

By Robert Jordan and Amy RomanczukPatterns of the Wheel: Coloring Art Based on Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time

Product Details

About the Author

Robert Jordan was born in 1948 in Charleston, South Carolina. He taught himself to read when he was four with the incidental aid of a twelve-years-older brother, and was tackling Mark Twain and Jules Verne by five. He is a graduate of The Citadel, the Military College of South Carolina, with a degree in physics. He served two tours in Vietnam with the U.S. Army; among his decorations are the Distinguished Flying Cross with bronze oak leaf cluster, the Bronze Star with ""V"" and bronze oak leaf cluster, and two Vietnamese Gallantry Crosses with palm. A history buff, he has also written dance and theater criticism and enjoyed the outdoor sports of hunting, fishing, and sailing, and the indoor sports of poker, chess, pool, and pipe collecting.

Robert Jordan began writing in 1977 and went on to write The Wheel of Time®, one of the most important and best selling series in the history of fantasy publishing with over 14 million copies sold in North America, and countless more sold abroad.

Robert Jordan died on September 16, 2007, after a courageous battle with the rare blood disease amyloidosis.

Brandon Sanderson is the bestselling author of books including Warbreaker, Elantris, The Way of Kings, and The Mistborn Trilogy—Mistborn, The Well of Ascension and The Hero of Ages. He has also written Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians, a book for middle-grade readers, and is completing the final books in Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time® series—The Gathering Storm, Towers of Midnight and A Memory of Light—based on Jordan’s notes and material. Sanderson teaches writing at Brigham Young University. He lives in Utah.

Read an Excerpt

Towers of Midnight

Tom Doherty Associates

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose above the misty peaks of Imfaral. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.

Crisp and light, the wind danced across fields of new mountain grass stiff with frost. That frost lingered past first light, sheltered by the omnipresent clouds that hung like a death mask high above. It had been weeks since those clouds had budged, and the wan, yellowed grass showed it.

The wind churned morning mist, moving southward, chilling a small pride of torm. They reclined on a flat, lichen-stained granite shelf, waiting to bask in morning sunlight that would not arrive. The wind poured over the shelf, racing down a hillside of scraggly mura trees, with ropelike bark and green tufts of thick, needlelike leaves atop them.

At the base of the foothills, the wind turned eastward, passing an open plain kept free of trees and scrub by the soldier's axe. The killing field surrounded thirteen fortresses, tall and cut entirely from unpolished black marble, their blocks left rough-hewn to give them a primal feeling of unformed strength. These were towers meant for war. By tradition they were unoccupied. How long that would last — how long tradition itself would be remembered in a continent in chaos — remained to be seen.

The wind continued eastward, and soon it was playing with the masts of half-burned ships at the docks of Takisrom. Out into the Sleeping Bay, it passed the attackers: enormous greatships with sails painted blood red. They sailed southward, their grisly work done.

The wind blew onto land again, past smoldering towns and villages, open plains filled with troops and docks fat with warships. Smoke, war calls and banners flew above dying grass and beneath a dockmaster's gloomy sky.

Men did not whisper that this might be the end of times. They yelled it. The Fields of Peace were aflame, the Tower of Ravens was broken as prophesied and a murderer openly ruled in Seandar. This was a time to lift one's sword and choose a side, then spill blood to give a final color to the dying land.

The wind howled eastward over the famed Emerald Cliffs and coursed out over the ocean. Behind, smoke seemed to rise from the entire continent of Seanchan.

For hours, the wind blew — making what would have been called tradewinds in another Age — twisting between whitecaps and dark, mysterious waves. Eventually, the wind encountered another continent, this one quiet, like a man holding his breath before the headsman's axe fell.

By the time the wind reached the enormous, broken-peaked mountain known as Dragonmount, it had lost much of its strength. It passed around the base of the mountain, then through a large orchard of apple trees, lit by early-afternoon sunlight. The once-green leaves had faded to yellow.

The wind passed by a low wooden fence, tied at its joints with tan linen twine. Two figures stood there: a youth and a somber man in his later years. The older man wore a pair of worn brown trousers and a loose white shirt with wooden buttons. His face was so furrowed with wrinkles that it seemed kin to the bark of the trees.

Almen Bunt didn't know a lot about orchards. Oh, he had planted a few trees back on his farm in Andor. Who didn't have a tree or two to fill in space on the dinner table? He'd planted a pair of walnut trees on the day he'd married Adrinne. It had felt good to have her trees there, outside his window, after she'd died.

Running an orchard was something else entirely. There were nearly three hundred trees in this field. It was his sister's orchard; he was visiting while his sons managed his farm near Carysford.

In his shirt pocket, Almen carried a letter from his sons. A desperate letter, pleading for help, but he couldn't go to them. He was needed here. Besides, it was a good time for him to be out of Andor. He was a Queen's man. There had been times, recently, when being a Queen's man could get someone into as much trouble as having one too many cows in his pasture.

"What do we do, Almen?" Adim asked. "Those trees, they ... Well, it ain't supposed to happen like this." The boy of thirteen had golden hair from his father's side.

Almen rubbed his chin, scratching at a patch of whiskers he'd missed during shaving. Hahn, Adim's older brother, approached them. The lad had carved Almen a set of wooden teeth as an arrival gift earlier in the spring. Wondrous things, held together by wires, with gaps for the few remaining teeth he had. But if he chewed too hard, they'd go all out of shape.

The rows of trees were straight and perfectly spaced. Graeger — Almen's brother-in-law — always had been meticulous. But he was dead now, which was why Almen had come. The neat rows of trees continued on for spans and spans, carefully pruned, fertilized, and watered.

And during the night, every single one of them had shed their fruit. Tiny apples, barely as large as a man's thumb. Thousands of them. They'd shriveled during the night, then fallen. An entire crop, gone.

"I don't know what to say, lads," Almen finally admitted.

"You, at a loss for words?" Hahn said. Adim's brother had darker coloring, like his mother, and was tall for his fifteen years. "Uncle, you usually have as much to say as a gleeman who's been at the brandy for half the night!" Hahn liked to maintain a strong front for his brother, now that he was the man of the family. But sometimes it was good to be worried.

And Almen was worried. Very worried.

"We barely have a week's grain left," Adim said softly. "And what we've got, we got by promises on the crop. Nobody will give us anything, now. Nobody has anything."

The orchard was one of the largest producers in the region; half the men in the village worked it during one stage or another. They were depending on it. They needed it. With so much food going bad, with their stores used up during the unnatural winter ...

And then there was the incident that had killed Graeger. The man had walked around a corner over in Negin Bridge and vanished. When people went looking, all they found was a twisted, leafless tree with a gray-white trunk that smelled of sulphur.

The Dragon's Fang had been scrawled on a few doors that night. People were more and more nervous. Once, Almen would have named them all fools, jumping at shadows and seeing bloody Trollocs under every cobblestone.

Now ... well, now he wasn't so sure. He glanced eastward, toward Tar Valon. Could the witches be to blame for the failed crop? He hated being so close to their nest, but Alysa needed the help.

They'd chopped down that tree and burned it. You could still smell brimstone in the square.

"Uncle?" Hahn said, sounding uncomfortable. "What ... what do we do?"

"I ..." What did they do? "Burn me, but we should all go to Caemlyn. I'm sure the new Queen has everything cleared up there by now. We can get me settled right by the law. Who ever heard of such a thing, gaining a price on your head for speaking out in favor of the Queen?" He realized he was rambling. The boys kept looking at him.

"No," Almen continued. "Burn me, boys, but that's wrong. We can't go. We need to keep on working. This isn't any worse than when I lost my entire millet field to a late frost twenty years back. We'll get through this, right as Light we will."

The trees themselves looked fine. Not an insect bite on them, leaves a little yellowed, but still good. Sure, the spring buds had come late, and the apples had grown slowly. But they had been growing.

"Hahn," Almen found himself saying. "You know your father's felling axe has those chips on it? Why don't you go about getting it sharpened? Adim, go fetch Uso and Moor and their carts. We'll sort through those fallen apples and see if any aren't rotted too badly. Maybe the pigs will take them." At least they still had two. But there'd been no piglets this spring.

The youths hesitated.

"Go on now," Almen said. "No use dallying because we've had a setback."

The lads hastened off, obedient. Idle hands made idle minds. Some work would keep them from thinking about what was to come.

There was no helping that for him. He leaned down on the fence, feeling the rough grooves of the unsanded planks under his arms. That wind tugged at the tails of his shirt again; Adrinne had always forced him to tuck it in, but now that she was gone, he ... well, he never had liked wearing it that way.

He tucked the shirt in anyway.

The air smelled wrong somehow. Stale, like the air inside a city. Flies were starting to buzz around the shriveled bits that had once been apples.

Almen had lived a long time. He'd never kept count; Adrinne had done that for him. It wasn't important. He knew he'd seen a lot of years, and that was that.

He'd seen insects attack a crop; he'd seen plants lost to flood, to drought, or to negligence. But in all his years, he'd never seen anything like this. This was something evil. The village was already starving. They didn't talk about it, not when the children or youths were around. The adults quietly gave what they had to the young and to women who were nursing. But the cows were going dry, the stores spoiling, the crops dying.

The letter in his pocket said his own farm had been set upon by passing mercenaries. They hadn't harmed anyone, but they'd taken every scrap of food. His sons survived only by digging half-grown potatoes from the crop and boiling them. They found nineteen out of every twenty rotting in the ground, inexplicably full of worms despite green growth above.

Dozens of nearby villages were suffering the same way. No food to be had. Tar Valon itself was having trouble feeding its people.

Staring down those neat, perfect rows of useless apple trees, Almen felt the crushing weight of it. Of trying to remain positive. Of seeing all his sister had worked for fail and rot. These apples ... they were supposed to have saved the village, and his sons.

His stomach rumbled. It did that a lot lately.

This is it then, isn't it? he thought, eyes toward the too-yellow grass below. The fight just ended.

Almen slumped down, feeling a weight on his shoulders. Adrinne, he thought. There had been a time when he'd been quick to laugh, quick to talk. Now he felt worn, like a post that had been sanded and sanded and sanded until only a sliver was left. Maybe it was time to let go.

He felt something on his neck. Warmth.

He hesitated, then turned weary eyes toward the sky. Sunlight bathed his face. He gaped; it seemed so long since he'd seen pure sunlight. It shone down through a large break in the clouds, comforting, like the warmth of an oven baking a loaf of Adrinne's thick sourdough bread.

Almen stood, raising a hand to shade his eyes. He took a deep, long breath, and smelled ... apple blossoms? He spun with a start.

The apple trees were flowering.

That was plain ridiculous. He rubbed his eyes, but that didn't dispel the image. They were blooming, all of them, white flowers breaking out between the leaves. The flies buzzed into the air and zipped away on the wind. The dark bits of apple on the ground melted away, like wax before a flame. In seconds, there was nothing left of them, not even juice. The ground had absorbed them.

What was happening? Apple trees didn't blossom twice. Was he going mad?

Footsteps sounded softly on the path that ran past the orchard. Almen spun to find a tall young man walking down out of the foothills. He had deep red hair and he wore ragged clothing: a brown cloak with loose sleeves and a simple white linen shirt beneath. The trousers were finer, black with a delicate embroidery of gold at the cuff.

"Ho, stranger," Almen said, raising a hand, not knowing what else to say, not even sure if he'd seen what he thought he'd seen. "Did you ... did you get lost up in the foothills?"

The man stopped, turning sharply. He seemed surprised to find Almen there. With a start, Almen realized the man's left arm ended in a stump.

The stranger looked about, then breathed in deeply. "No. I'm not lost. Finally. It feels like a great long time since I've understood the path before me."

Almen scratched the side of his face. Burn him, there was another patch he'd missed shaving. His hand had been shaking so much that he might as well have skipped the razor entirely. "Not lost? Son, that pathway only leads up the slopes of Dragonmount. The area's been hunted clean, if you were hoping to find some game. There's nothing back there of use."

"I wouldn't say that," the stranger said, glancing over his shoulder. "There are always things of use around, if you look closely enough. You can't stare at them too long. To learn but not be overwhelmed, that is the balance."

Almen folded his arms. The man's words ... it seemed they were having two different conversations. Perhaps the lad wasn't right in the head. There was something about the man, though. The way he stood, the way those eyes of his stared with such calm intensity. Almen felt like standing up and dusting off his shirt to make himself more presentable.

"Do I know you?" Almen asked. Something about the young man was familiar.

"Yes," the lad said. Then he nodded toward the orchard. "Gather your people and collect those apples. They'll be needed in the days to come."

"The apples?" Almen said, turning. "But —" He froze. The trees were burgeoning with new, ripe red apples. The blossoms he'd seen earlier had fallen free, and blanketed the ground in white, like snow.

Those apples seemed to shine. Not just dozens of them on each tree, but hundreds. More than a tree should hold, each one perfectly ripe.

"I am going mad," Almen said, turning back to the man.

"It's not you who is mad, friend," the stranger said. "But the entire world. Gather those apples quickly. My presence will hold him off for a time, I think, and whatever you take now should be safe from his touch."

That voice ... Those eyes, like gray gemstones cut and set in his face. "I do know you," Almen said, remembering an odd pair of youths he had given a lift in his cart years ago. "Light! You're him, aren't you? The one they're talking about?"

The man looked back at Almen. Meeting those eyes, Almen felt a strange sense of peace. "It is likely," the man said. "Men are often speaking of me." He smiled, then turned and continued on his way down the path.

"Wait," Almen said, raising a hand toward the man who could only be the Dragon Reborn. "Where are you going?"

The man looked back with a faint grimace. "To do something I've been putting off. I doubt she will be pleased by what I tell her."

Almen lowered his hand, watching as the stranger strode away, down a pathway between two fenced orchards, trees laden with blood-red apples. Almen thought — for a moment — he could see something around the man. A lightness to the air, warped and bent.

Almen watched the man until he vanished, then dashed toward Alysa's house. The old pain in his hip was gone, and he felt as if he could run a dozen leagues. Halfway to the house, he met Adim and the two workers coming to the orchard. They regarded him with concerned eyes as he pulled to a halt.

Unable to speak, Almen turned and pointed back at the orchards. The apples were red specks, dotting the green like freckles.

"What's that?" Uso asked, rubbing his long face. Moor squinted, then began running toward the orchard.

"Gather everyone," Almen said, winded. "Everyone from the village, from the villages nearby, people passing on Shyman's road. Everyone. Get them here to gather and pick."

"Pick what?" Adim asked with a frown.

"Apples," Almen said. "What else bloody grows on apple trees! Listen, we need every one of those apples picked before the day ends. You hear me? Go! Spread the word! There's a harvest after all!"

First Chapter

Towers of Midnight

Tom Doherty Associates

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose above the misty peaks of Imfaral. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.

Crisp and light, the wind danced across fields of new mountain grass stiff with frost. That frost lingered past first light, sheltered by the omnipresent clouds that hung like a death mask high above. It had been weeks since those clouds had budged, and the wan, yellowed grass showed it.

The wind churned morning mist, moving southward, chilling a small pride of torm. They reclined on a flat, lichen-stained granite shelf, waiting to bask in morning sunlight that would not arrive. The wind poured over the shelf, racing down a hillside of scraggly mura trees, with ropelike bark and green tufts of thick, needlelike leaves atop them.

At the base of the foothills, the wind turned eastward, passing an open plain kept free of trees and scrub by the soldier's axe. The killing field surrounded thirteen fortresses, tall and cut entirely from unpolished black marble, their blocks left rough-hewn to give them a primal feeling of unformed strength. These were towers meant for war. By tradition they were unoccupied. How long that would last — how long tradition itself would be remembered in a continent in chaos — remained to be seen.

The wind continued eastward, and soon it was playing with the masts of half-burned ships at the docks of Takisrom. Out into the Sleeping Bay, it passed the attackers: enormous greatships with sails painted blood red. They sailed southward, their grisly work done.

The wind blew onto land again, past smoldering towns and villages, open plains filled with troops and docks fat with warships. Smoke, war calls and banners flew above dying grass and beneath a dockmaster's gloomy sky.

Men did not whisper that this might be the end of times. They yelled it. The Fields of Peace were aflame, the Tower of Ravens was broken as prophesied and a murderer openly ruled in Seandar. This was a time to lift one's sword and choose a side, then spill blood to give a final color to the dying land.

The wind howled eastward over the famed Emerald Cliffs and coursed out over the ocean. Behind, smoke seemed to rise from the entire continent of Seanchan.

For hours, the wind blew — making what would have been called tradewinds in another Age — twisting between whitecaps and dark, mysterious waves. Eventually, the wind encountered another continent, this one quiet, like a man holding his breath before the headsman's axe fell.

By the time the wind reached the enormous, broken-peaked mountain known as Dragonmount, it had lost much of its strength. It passed around the base of the mountain, then through a large orchard of apple trees, lit by early-afternoon sunlight. The once-green leaves had faded to yellow.

The wind passed by a low wooden fence, tied at its joints with tan linen twine. Two figures stood there: a youth and a somber man in his later years. The older man wore a pair of worn brown trousers and a loose white shirt with wooden buttons. His face was so furrowed with wrinkles that it seemed kin to the bark of the trees.

Almen Bunt didn't know a lot about orchards. Oh, he had planted a few trees back on his farm in Andor. Who didn't have a tree or two to fill in space on the dinner table? He'd planted a pair of walnut trees on the day he'd married Adrinne. It had felt good to have her trees there, outside his window, after she'd died.

Running an orchard was something else entirely. There were nearly three hundred trees in this field. It was his sister's orchard; he was visiting while his sons managed his farm near Carysford.

In his shirt pocket, Almen carried a letter from his sons. A desperate letter, pleading for help, but he couldn't go to them. He was needed here. Besides, it was a good time for him to be out of Andor. He was a Queen's man. There had been times, recently, when being a Queen's man could get someone into as much trouble as having one too many cows in his pasture.

"What do we do, Almen?" Adim asked. "Those trees, they ... Well, it ain't supposed to happen like this." The boy of thirteen had golden hair from his father's side.

Almen rubbed his chin, scratching at a patch of whiskers he'd missed during shaving. Hahn, Adim's older brother, approached them. The lad had carved Almen a set of wooden teeth as an arrival gift earlier in the spring. Wondrous things, held together by wires, with gaps for the few remaining teeth he had. But if he chewed too hard, they'd go all out of shape.

The rows of trees were straight and perfectly spaced. Graeger — Almen's brother-in-law — always had been meticulous. But he was dead now, which was why Almen had come. The neat rows of trees continued on for spans and spans, carefully pruned, fertilized, and watered.

And during the night, every single one of them had shed their fruit. Tiny apples, barely as large as a man's thumb. Thousands of them. They'd shriveled during the night, then fallen. An entire crop, gone.

"I don't know what to say, lads," Almen finally admitted.

"You, at a loss for words?" Hahn said. Adim's brother had darker coloring, like his mother, and was tall for his fifteen years. "Uncle, you usually have as much to say as a gleeman who's been at the brandy for half the night!" Hahn liked to maintain a strong front for his brother, now that he was the man of the family. But sometimes it was good to be worried.

And Almen was worried. Very worried.

"We barely have a week's grain left," Adim said softly. "And what we've got, we got by promises on the crop. Nobody will give us anything, now. Nobody has anything."

The orchard was one of the largest producers in the region; half the men in the village worked it during one stage or another. They were depending on it. They needed it. With so much food going bad, with their stores used up during the unnatural winter ...

And then there was the incident that had killed Graeger. The man had walked around a corner over in Negin Bridge and vanished. When people went looking, all they found was a twisted, leafless tree with a gray-white trunk that smelled of sulphur.

The Dragon's Fang had been scrawled on a few doors that night. People were more and more nervous. Once, Almen would have named them all fools, jumping at shadows and seeing bloody Trollocs under every cobblestone.

Now ... well, now he wasn't so sure. He glanced eastward, toward Tar Valon. Could the witches be to blame for the failed crop? He hated being so close to their nest, but Alysa needed the help.

They'd chopped down that tree and burned it. You could still smell brimstone in the square.

"Uncle?" Hahn said, sounding uncomfortable. "What ... what do we do?"

"I ..." What did they do? "Burn me, but we should all go to Caemlyn. I'm sure the new Queen has everything cleared up there by now. We can get me settled right by the law. Who ever heard of such a thing, gaining a price on your head for speaking out in favor of the Queen?" He realized he was rambling. The boys kept looking at him.

"No," Almen continued. "Burn me, boys, but that's wrong. We can't go. We need to keep on working. This isn't any worse than when I lost my entire millet field to a late frost twenty years back. We'll get through this, right as Light we will."

The trees themselves looked fine. Not an insect bite on them, leaves a little yellowed, but still good. Sure, the spring buds had come late, and the apples had grown slowly. But they had been growing.

"Hahn," Almen found himself saying. "You know your father's felling axe has those chips on it? Why don't you go about getting it sharpened? Adim, go fetch Uso and Moor and their carts. We'll sort through those fallen apples and see if any aren't rotted too badly. Maybe the pigs will take them." At least they still had two. But there'd been no piglets this spring.

The youths hesitated.

"Go on now," Almen said. "No use dallying because we've had a setback."

The lads hastened off, obedient. Idle hands made idle minds. Some work would keep them from thinking about what was to come.

There was no helping that for him. He leaned down on the fence, feeling the rough grooves of the unsanded planks under his arms. That wind tugged at the tails of his shirt again; Adrinne had always forced him to tuck it in, but now that she was gone, he ... well, he never had liked wearing it that way.

He tucked the shirt in anyway.

The air smelled wrong somehow. Stale, like the air inside a city. Flies were starting to buzz around the shriveled bits that had once been apples.

Almen had lived a long time. He'd never kept count; Adrinne had done that for him. It wasn't important. He knew he'd seen a lot of years, and that was that.

He'd seen insects attack a crop; he'd seen plants lost to flood, to drought, or to negligence. But in all his years, he'd never seen anything like this. This was something evil. The village was already starving. They didn't talk about it, not when the children or youths were around. The adults quietly gave what they had to the young and to women who were nursing. But the cows were going dry, the stores spoiling, the crops dying.

The letter in his pocket said his own farm had been set upon by passing mercenaries. They hadn't harmed anyone, but they'd taken every scrap of food. His sons survived only by digging half-grown potatoes from the crop and boiling them. They found nineteen out of every twenty rotting in the ground, inexplicably full of worms despite green growth above.

Dozens of nearby villages were suffering the same way. No food to be had. Tar Valon itself was having trouble feeding its people.

Staring down those neat, perfect rows of useless apple trees, Almen felt the crushing weight of it. Of trying to remain positive. Of seeing all his sister had worked for fail and rot. These apples ... they were supposed to have saved the village, and his sons.

His stomach rumbled. It did that a lot lately.

This is it then, isn't it? he thought, eyes toward the too-yellow grass below. The fight just ended.

Almen slumped down, feeling a weight on his shoulders. Adrinne, he thought. There had been a time when he'd been quick to laugh, quick to talk. Now he felt worn, like a post that had been sanded and sanded and sanded until only a sliver was left. Maybe it was time to let go.

He felt something on his neck. Warmth.

He hesitated, then turned weary eyes toward the sky. Sunlight bathed his face. He gaped; it seemed so long since he'd seen pure sunlight. It shone down through a large break in the clouds, comforting, like the warmth of an oven baking a loaf of Adrinne's thick sourdough bread.

Almen stood, raising a hand to shade his eyes. He took a deep, long breath, and smelled ... apple blossoms? He spun with a start.

The apple trees were flowering.

That was plain ridiculous. He rubbed his eyes, but that didn't dispel the image. They were blooming, all of them, white flowers breaking out between the leaves. The flies buzzed into the air and zipped away on the wind. The dark bits of apple on the ground melted away, like wax before a flame. In seconds, there was nothing left of them, not even juice. The ground had absorbed them.

What was happening? Apple trees didn't blossom twice. Was he going mad?

Footsteps sounded softly on the path that ran past the orchard. Almen spun to find a tall young man walking down out of the foothills. He had deep red hair and he wore ragged clothing: a brown cloak with loose sleeves and a simple white linen shirt beneath. The trousers were finer, black with a delicate embroidery of gold at the cuff.

"Ho, stranger," Almen said, raising a hand, not knowing what else to say, not even sure if he'd seen what he thought he'd seen. "Did you ... did you get lost up in the foothills?"

The man stopped, turning sharply. He seemed surprised to find Almen there. With a start, Almen realized the man's left arm ended in a stump.

The stranger looked about, then breathed in deeply. "No. I'm not lost. Finally. It feels like a great long time since I've understood the path before me."

Almen scratched the side of his face. Burn him, there was another patch he'd missed shaving. His hand had been shaking so much that he might as well have skipped the razor entirely. "Not lost? Son, that pathway only leads up the slopes of Dragonmount. The area's been hunted clean, if you were hoping to find some game. There's nothing back there of use."

"I wouldn't say that," the stranger said, glancing over his shoulder. "There are always things of use around, if you look closely enough. You can't stare at them too long. To learn but not be overwhelmed, that is the balance."

Almen folded his arms. The man's words ... it seemed they were having two different conversations. Perhaps the lad wasn't right in the head. There was something about the man, though. The way he stood, the way those eyes of his stared with such calm intensity. Almen felt like standing up and dusting off his shirt to make himself more presentable.

"Do I know you?" Almen asked. Something about the young man was familiar.

"Yes," the lad said. Then he nodded toward the orchard. "Gather your people and collect those apples. They'll be needed in the days to come."

"The apples?" Almen said, turning. "But —" He froze. The trees were burgeoning with new, ripe red apples. The blossoms he'd seen earlier had fallen free, and blanketed the ground in white, like snow.

Those apples seemed to shine. Not just dozens of them on each tree, but hundreds. More than a tree should hold, each one perfectly ripe.

"I am going mad," Almen said, turning back to the man.

"It's not you who is mad, friend," the stranger said. "But the entire world. Gather those apples quickly. My presence will hold him off for a time, I think, and whatever you take now should be safe from his touch."

That voice ... Those eyes, like gray gemstones cut and set in his face. "I do know you," Almen said, remembering an odd pair of youths he had given a lift in his cart years ago. "Light! You're him, aren't you? The one they're talking about?"

The man looked back at Almen. Meeting those eyes, Almen felt a strange sense of peace. "It is likely," the man said. "Men are often speaking of me." He smiled, then turned and continued on his way down the path.

"Wait," Almen said, raising a hand toward the man who could only be the Dragon Reborn. "Where are you going?"

The man looked back with a faint grimace. "To do something I've been putting off. I doubt she will be pleased by what I tell her."

Almen lowered his hand, watching as the stranger strode away, down a pathway between two fenced orchards, trees laden with blood-red apples. Almen thought — for a moment — he could see something around the man. A lightness to the air, warped and bent.

Almen watched the man until he vanished, then dashed toward Alysa's house. The old pain in his hip was gone, and he felt as if he could run a dozen leagues. Halfway to the house, he met Adim and the two workers coming to the orchard. They regarded him with concerned eyes as he pulled to a halt.

Unable to speak, Almen turned and pointed back at the orchards. The apples were red specks, dotting the green like freckles.

"What's that?" Uso asked, rubbing his long face. Moor squinted, then began running toward the orchard.

"Gather everyone," Almen said, winded. "Everyone from the village, from the villages nearby, people passing on Shyman's road. Everyone. Get them here to gather and pick."

"Pick what?" Adim asked with a frown.

"Apples," Almen said. "What else bloody grows on apple trees! Listen, we need every one of those apples picked before the day ends. You hear me? Go! Spread the word! There's a harvest after all!"

Table of Contents

Contents

MAPS, PROLOGUE: Distinctions, 1 Apples First, 2 Questions of Leadership, 3 The Amyrlin's Anger, 4 The Pattern Groans, 5 Writings, 6 Questioning Intentions, 7 Lighter than a Feather, 8 The Seven-Striped Lass, 9 Blood in the Air, 10 After the Taint, 11 An Unexpected Letter, 12 An Empty Ink Bottle, 13 For What Has Been Wrought, 14 A Vow, 15 Use a Pebble, 16 Shanna'har, 17 Partings, and a Meeting, 18 The Strength of This Place, 19 Talk of Dragons, 20 A Choice, 21 An Open Gate, 22 The End of a Legend, 23 Foxheads, 24 To Make a Stand, 25 Return to Bandar Eban, 26 Parley, 27 A Call to Stand, 28 Oddities, 29 A Terrible Feeling, 30 Men Dream Here, 31 Into the Void, 32 A Storm of Light, 33 A Good Soup, 34 Judgment, 35 The Right Thing, 36 An Invitation, 37 Darkness in the Tower, 38 Wounds, 39 In the Three-fold Land, 40 A Making, 41 An Unexpected Ally, 42 Stronger than Blood, 43 Some Tea, 44 A Backhanded Request, 45 A Reunion, 46 Working Leather, 47 A Teaching Chamber, 48 Near Avendesora, 49 Court of the Sun, 50 Choosing Enemies, 51 A Testing, 52 Boots, 53 Gateways, 54 The Light of the World, 55 The One Left Behind, 56 Something Wrong, 57 A Rabbit for Supper, EPILOGUE: And After, GLOSSARY,

Reading Group Guide

Contents

MAPS, PROLOGUE: Distinctions, 1 Apples First, 2 Questions of Leadership, 3 The Amyrlin's Anger, 4 The Pattern Groans, 5 Writings, 6 Questioning Intentions, 7 Lighter than a Feather, 8 The Seven-Striped Lass, 9 Blood in the Air, 10 After the Taint, 11 An Unexpected Letter, 12 An Empty Ink Bottle, 13 For What Has Been Wrought, 14 A Vow, 15 Use a Pebble, 16 Shanna'har, 17 Partings, and a Meeting, 18 The Strength of This Place, 19 Talk of Dragons, 20 A Choice, 21 An Open Gate, 22 The End of a Legend, 23 Foxheads, 24 To Make a Stand, 25 Return to Bandar Eban, 26 Parley, 27 A Call to Stand, 28 Oddities, 29 A Terrible Feeling, 30 Men Dream Here, 31 Into the Void, 32 A Storm of Light, 33 A Good Soup, 34 Judgment, 35 The Right Thing, 36 An Invitation, 37 Darkness in the Tower, 38 Wounds, 39 In the Three-fold Land, 40 A Making, 41 An Unexpected Ally, 42 Stronger than Blood, 43 Some Tea, 44 A Backhanded Request, 45 A Reunion, 46 Working Leather, 47 A Teaching Chamber, 48 Near Avendesora, 49 Court of the Sun, 50 Choosing Enemies, 51 A Testing, 52 Boots, 53 Gateways, 54 The Light of the World, 55 The One Left Behind, 56 Something Wrong, 57 A Rabbit for Supper, EPILOGUE: And After, GLOSSARY,

Interviews

Contents

MAPS, PROLOGUE: Distinctions, 1 Apples First, 2 Questions of Leadership, 3 The Amyrlin's Anger, 4 The Pattern Groans, 5 Writings, 6 Questioning Intentions, 7 Lighter than a Feather, 8 The Seven-Striped Lass, 9 Blood in the Air, 10 After the Taint, 11 An Unexpected Letter, 12 An Empty Ink Bottle, 13 For What Has Been Wrought, 14 A Vow, 15 Use a Pebble, 16 Shanna'har, 17 Partings, and a Meeting, 18 The Strength of This Place, 19 Talk of Dragons, 20 A Choice, 21 An Open Gate, 22 The End of a Legend, 23 Foxheads, 24 To Make a Stand, 25 Return to Bandar Eban, 26 Parley, 27 A Call to Stand, 28 Oddities, 29 A Terrible Feeling, 30 Men Dream Here, 31 Into the Void, 32 A Storm of Light, 33 A Good Soup, 34 Judgment, 35 The Right Thing, 36 An Invitation, 37 Darkness in the Tower, 38 Wounds, 39 In the Three-fold Land, 40 A Making, 41 An Unexpected Ally, 42 Stronger than Blood, 43 Some Tea, 44 A Backhanded Request, 45 A Reunion, 46 Working Leather, 47 A Teaching Chamber, 48 Near Avendesora, 49 Court of the Sun, 50 Choosing Enemies, 51 A Testing, 52 Boots, 53 Gateways, 54 The Light of the World, 55 The One Left Behind, 56 Something Wrong, 57 A Rabbit for Supper, EPILOGUE: And After, GLOSSARY,

Recipe

Contents

MAPS, PROLOGUE: Distinctions, 1 Apples First, 2 Questions of Leadership, 3 The Amyrlin's Anger, 4 The Pattern Groans, 5 Writings, 6 Questioning Intentions, 7 Lighter than a Feather, 8 The Seven-Striped Lass, 9 Blood in the Air, 10 After the Taint, 11 An Unexpected Letter, 12 An Empty Ink Bottle, 13 For What Has Been Wrought, 14 A Vow, 15 Use a Pebble, 16 Shanna'har, 17 Partings, and a Meeting, 18 The Strength of This Place, 19 Talk of Dragons, 20 A Choice, 21 An Open Gate, 22 The End of a Legend, 23 Foxheads, 24 To Make a Stand, 25 Return to Bandar Eban, 26 Parley, 27 A Call to Stand, 28 Oddities, 29 A Terrible Feeling, 30 Men Dream Here, 31 Into the Void, 32 A Storm of Light, 33 A Good Soup, 34 Judgment, 35 The Right Thing, 36 An Invitation, 37 Darkness in the Tower, 38 Wounds, 39 In the Three-fold Land, 40 A Making, 41 An Unexpected Ally, 42 Stronger than Blood, 43 Some Tea, 44 A Backhanded Request, 45 A Reunion, 46 Working Leather, 47 A Teaching Chamber, 48 Near Avendesora, 49 Court of the Sun, 50 Choosing Enemies, 51 A Testing, 52 Boots, 53 Gateways, 54 The Light of the World, 55 The One Left Behind, 56 Something Wrong, 57 A Rabbit for Supper, EPILOGUE: And After, GLOSSARY,

Editorial Reviews

It's time to toss the dice. In the penultimate volume of Jordan's breathtaking The Wheel of Time, the Last Battle has begun. Tensions heighten as long-standing conflicts simmer to a boil and the Third Age moves to its momentous conclusion. A fantasy epic masterpiece nears its end.

Jordan's epic is coming to its long awaited conclusion in the next book, so this installment (Book 13) exquisitely ratchets up the suspense. The last battle is coming, and Rand must garner the armies of nations, unite disparate allies, and as the Dragon Reborn, prepare to face the Dark One in combat. Fans will find the preparations of the multitude of characters exciting and satisfying. Michael Kramer and Kate Reading have narrated all of the previous books, and continue to give peerless performances. Both boast a wide range of vocals and accents, and perform all characters convincingly. Their readings and characterizations are complementary and consistent in manner and style so that the sprawling series is kept coherent. A Tor hardcover. (Nov.)

Publishers Weekly

“The battle scenes have the breathless urgency of firsthand experience, and the . . . evil laced into the forces of good, the dangers latent in any promised salvation, the sense of the unavoidable onslaught of unpredictable events bear the marks of American national experience during the last three decades, just as the experience of the First World War and its aftermath gave its imprint to J. R. R. Tolkien's work.” The New York Times on The Wheel of Time®

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

Towers of Midnight (Wheel of Time Series #13) 4.5 out of 5based on
0 ratings.
879 reviews.

Alanna87

More than 1 year ago

The book was fantastic. So many thing WOT fans have been waiting for happened in this book, and every one lived up to my expectations. I really enjoyed reading it. I found Mat to be much more like himself in this book than in the last one, though I admit there were a few moments he was a little off. But even those bits, I still loved. About the ebook - Yes, it was delayed at the request of the author's estate. Harrit, Robert Jordan's wife and editor, explained at a book signing that they delayed it because unfortunately, ebooks sales do not count towards sales in the New York Times Bestsellers list. Every other book in the series has always made it onto the list, which is notonly prestigious but gains the series more readers. So as disappointing as it is, I think that is an acceptable reason to delay it. So yes, please don't complain to B&N, Amazon, Tor/Macmillan, or Brandon Sanderson, because they have nothing to do with it and cannot do anything about it. In fact, originally, the ebook was going to be delayed by a year, but Brandon Sanderson persuaded Harriet to delay the release by only three months. And I agree, please don't give the book a low rating because you're disappointed about the ebook. People look at those ratings to determine if the book is worth a read, and this one definitely is.

Anonymous

More than 1 year ago

A great addition to the Wheel of Time series. I am just tired of seeing a bunch of 1 star rating due to the fact there is no E book version available. Rate the book and send a complaint via Email. This book was amazing and deserves to be rated as such.

Anonymous

More than 1 year ago

Please don't review if you haven't read the book. I pay attention to the ratings and would like to see ratings about the books and not other grievances. Its not the place for it.

joshman72

More than 1 year ago

I started reading the series in the early 90's when it first came out. The early books captured my imagination and found the main characters' development inspiring... I have since waded through the detail and the slow crawl of the many volumes of the series since; losing that inspiration and Jordan's world becoming more blurry... But NOW.. after just having finished the ToM (Towers of Midnight), the spirit of the WOT (Wheel of time) Fantasy within me is REBORN anew... Sanderson did an excellent job! RJ would be proud ! This book had me glued for the 4 days it took me to complete it. So much fulfillment of so many character plot lines... the progress to the Last Battle is substantial...Loved it ! highly recommend -- especially to those who started reading and interest tapered off.

Anonymous

More than 1 year ago

Extremly fast paced compared to most of the previous WoT books. Many answers given from way back when, lots of old chars reintroduced, and some forum/contest favorite chars are added into the series.
we're finally getting down to the wire, and everything is feeling like its about to happen.
Perrin is finally a char to be reckoned with! tho it seems that BS is still missing something about how to write mat.
and to wrap it up: Stop complaining about the E-book, it was originally pushed back almost a year, but some talking at Brandon, who wrote a letter to "Lady Dragon" got it moved up to february: this series has been 20+yrs in the makeing; if you dont have patience by now..

Daileen

More than 1 year ago

Just finished the book. Thought it was fabulous. The book seemed to be very fast moving, every chapter brought a new POV. Did not plod along like some of the other books. Can't wait for the last one! Very impressed with the speed Mr. Sanderson is writing, they couldn't have picked a better person to finish the series on schedule. Readers should definately check out this series if they haven't already!

edward1966

More than 1 year ago

this book things started to come togather i felt like it made the most of both the writers to make one of the best wheel of time books that i read .Can't wait to see what brandon does with the last book.

bcas1569

More than 1 year ago

I like the way Brandon Sanderson moves the action forward in this last series of books. Just as in The Gathering Storm he ties off plots that appeared to have gotten away from Robert Jordan and moves the story forward. I also lament the lack of an eBook release. I love to hold a book and read but having multiple eBooks saves me space on a bookshelf and saves some paper. Its also easier on my eyes since the iPad will light it up!

Manny1961

More than 1 year ago

This book was FANTASTIC! Anyone that says differently should either go back and reread it or stick to kiddie fantasy. Robert Jordan stated this series off with a bang, for me personally it got a little slow after book 6, 7, and 8 but was still worth reading. Then Jordan picked back up on the writing again as he did with the first five books and until his tragic and untimely death continued to enthrall me as I dived eagerly into his story again.
Brian Sanderson breathed new life into these books while continuing in Mr. Jordans same style as those first 5 books. Towers of Midnight is incredible I picked it up the day it hit the shelves and was finished the next day...I couldn't put it down. I have introduced my wife to the series and she is currently on book 3 "The Dragon Rising" and I am rereading the entire series as well on our new color Nooks. Do not miss out on Mr. Jordans and Mr. Sandersons works. Despite what you hear from the naysayers...if you pass on any of these books its your loss.

Nimhly

More than 1 year ago

Overall, I think the book was definitely a winner. I very much enjoyed how many of the hanging plotlines were resolved. The overall tone of the novel was upbeat, which was a welcome relief from the tension of the previous books in the series (and I mean that in a positive sense, I enjoyed the previous books very much). I think Sanderson has done a brilliant job at a monumental task.
However:
I think Sanderson needs to pay more attention to the tones and the characters in the books Jordan wrote. I find myself rolling my eyes (and not in an amused way) over some of the stuff Mat says and does - yes, he's a bit of a buffoon, but a clever buffoon, not an idiot. The way the author harped on "looking at women as potential hookups for his friends" over and over at the beginning just got annoying. Also, the note he wrote to Elayne with all the crossings out and "that means..." notations was also rather obvious and overworked. It almost feels like Mat is perhaps the author's favorite character, and so he decided to overwork and emphasize his traits, instead of keeping in context with the rest of the novel.
Some of the dialogue also seemed inappropriate for the series, too. There were several points in the novel where the characters speech strayed a bit into the "american contemporary", instead of keeping with the tone and style set by previous books.
There were also some practical errors, such as the author referring to the country the Seanchan live in as "Seanchan". I believe it was referred to as "Seandar" in previous books. I know this isn't a huge deal, but it does serve to sort of pull the reader out of the world of the book, particularly for those who have been following (and rereading) the series.
I felt that the "Moiraine" plotline was dragged out throughout the novel with nothing happening, then kind of smushed into the end as a bit of an afterthought.
I very much enjoyed the novel and look forward to the conclusion!

Darth-Vader

More than 1 year ago

I know e-books are the future but what is so horrible in holding an old fashion book in your hands. I have just started Towers Of Midnight and I love the series. Please just review the book and stop complaining.

Diane_Tulsa

More than 1 year ago

I bought the book and am about 1/3 of the way through it. So far, it is awesome! Sanderson has done a fantastic job taking over and concluding the series. I cant' wait to finish the rest!

RET_OSCS

More than 1 year ago

Brandon Sanderson has realy tied all the lose ends and made this book what the readers were looking for. Can't wait for the last book in the series.

jennido

More than 1 year ago

I should have known better to buy this book before a nursing exam. It was too good to think about putting it down. Yes, I know it wasn't written entirely by Robert Jordan, but he did a fantastic job in keeping it close. There were a few times in the book I could tell it wasn't jordan just from what he would have a character say, but all in all it was another awesome Wheel of Time book!!(and take it from me, I have read the entire series twice and named my daughter after one of the characters) Its just one step closer to knowing FINALLY what happens!

Stan Jontra

More than 1 year ago

Taking into account a new author, I loved this book. It's the first book of the series that I'd say you really need to have read previous books to keep everything in context due to Sanderson jumping around in the timeline a little, but the pace of what's happening in the story is getting so fast this isn't totally unexpected. Ss the Final Battle gets closer (what seems like days or maybe months in the storyline) Sanderson and Jordan had to bring lots of plotlines together in a way that make sense. My favorite chapters by far were those about Matt finally killing the gholom and Perrin's new hammer. And the ending was great, love the suspense! Final book is going to awesome, can't wait to see how this amazing story finally unfolds. My only hope is that we get a look into the future a little to see how the main characters' later generations play out (referring to Avie's vision). Who knows, maybe we have an entire new storyline for future readers, the start of the 4th Age.

BobDaBuilder

More than 1 year ago

Wasn't real sure were he was going with the string about the tower of ghengi, but it worked out fine. He did well with Perrin's wolf saga and Mat's gholam but Jordan did a much better job with the female characters. I would recommend it to any WOT fan with the thought that Sanderson is trying very hard to follow Jordan's style. Well done overall!

JediPug1

More than 1 year ago

People who are using the review process to complain about the availability (or lack thereof - whatever) need to stop NOW! This is not the place for that and you're not doing any favors to Brandon Sanderson or to the memory of Robert Jordan. Stop being immature and selfish. Instead, contact the publisher with any issues you might have. All you're doing is driving down the ratings for this wonderful book. True fans wouldn't do that.
As for myself, I loved this book! Once again, Mr. Sanderson has proven himself to be the perfect choice to complete Mr. Jordan's epic saga. Bravo!!!

Anonymous

More than 1 year ago

This one really didn't click with me. It felt like the time line was a bit convoluted in this book. I do not know if the different author really showed through in that area, or if it is just the tension of knowing that it is almost over, but I didn't feel nearly as hooked in this book. I still finished it at 3 this morning, but I was really just pushing to find those chapters that you go back and reread a couple times a year. The book had so much going on, and yet I felt like almost nothing happened. I am almost left wondering how it will all fit into a last book. I still of course would recommend it to other readers.

Anonymous

More than 1 year ago

A hard to put down book. I have been reading this series since it first started and each time it is difficult to wait for the next book. Please hurry.:)

JoeBearly

More than 1 year ago

I devoured this book in a matter of days. I found myself laughing at times and almost in tears at other times. I feel that Mr. Sanderson did an excellent job of picking up where Mr. Jordan left off. I was so pleased to hear that the series would be finished in spite of Mr. Jordan's passing. Now, I find out that I have to wait for about a year for the final chapter in this series. I guess I'll have to start from the beginning and work my way through it yet again.

Misageru

More than 1 year ago

The book was an enjoyable read. The pacing is not quite spot on but is considerably better than books 5-11. The book has one point that bothers me. Each character's story isn't at the same point in time as the others therefore sometimes support character's like Tam Al'thor are in two spots at the same time reading wise.

OldSchoolTN

More than 1 year ago

I also am unsure of the reasons to see less than five stars rating this work. I will admit that at first I was somewhat skeptical that Mr Sanderson would, indeed, be able to "step up" and fill the void left by Mr Jordan's passing and I did, initially, note a certain "difference" in writing style. As I continued reading, however, I found it quite easy to re-enter the World of the "Wheel of Time Series" as if nothing had truly changed, and, once again, found myself completely captured by the unfolding drama.
My only lament, well actually there are two, the first is the "wait" for the Grand Finale of this marvelous trek, the second, is as obvious, I will miss the journey once done.

ThornTW

More than 1 year ago

I'm not sure why this is only rated a 3 star so far on B&N. Sanderson continues to hold faithful to Robert Jordan's work. Likewise with Book 12 as with this latest entry, I have found Sanderson to be a more enjoyable writer as he does not wade very often into the problems that bogged Jordan down. Part of that may simply be the resoultion to the series that is drawing to a close and thus he benefits, but none the less the last two books have been a very enjoyable read in my opinion.
I love the entire series, but Jordan to me got bogged down in alot of repetative detail and alot of bickering women (around book 6 and following). It often made it a chore to read. I have found none of that with Sanderson. Book 13 flows very well and as another reviewer rightly noted the timeline difference between characters being a bit awkward, I personally did not find it distracting.
Where as with past books in the series taking me weeks/months to get through, I did not put the Towers of Midnight down, reading it in only a few days. It is fast paced, and the hopping between characters means something is always going on that is exciting.
I look forward to the final installment next fall and I would recommend this series to anyone who enjoys fantasy fiction.

harstan

More than 1 year ago

Increasingly the seals that contain the Dark One in the shadows are rotting abetted by the evil minion. Soon barring a miracle the malevolence will be back and no Dragon appears capable of defeating the evil.
In Caemlyn Mat Cauthon hides at the same time trying to find a way to breach the Tower of Ghenjei even as the golam still haunts him. At about the same time Perrin Aybara faces the Slayer in the dream and tries to ignore the haunting murder of two Children of the Light, which he knows will come back on him. Meanwhile Egwene the Amyrlin Seat seeks Messana the Forsaken, who hides amidst the White Tower sisters. All three face personal confrontations even the Wheel of Time moves in favor of the Dark One.
In his second book at the helm of the Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time (see The Gathering Storm), Brandon Sanderson does a terrific job of closing out several personal troubles that have been around seemingly for over a decade (our time). The author also appears to have set up the anticipated end of time finish. The story line is well written and fans will overall be pleased though there is a tendency towards dangling participles instead of dangling subplots. The key characters are fully developed yet they seem different from Mr. Jordan's writings as unlike The Gathering Storm, Mr. Sanderson has clearly placed his stamp on Towers of Midnight.
Harriet Klausner

Aspiring_BlackBelt

More than 1 year ago

Rand is just so amazing in this book. I like the was Sanderson has continued with Jordan's work. In my honest opinion I was beginning to think that Jordan was becoming senile in his old age, not because the books were becoming bad, no! But because the way the later books dragged on and on...at least that's what I believe. The books were still good though. And I'd just like to point out how disgusted I am that people have the nerve to complain about a book because there isn't an eBook yet. Only here in America could you find such lazy disgusting slobs with nothing better to do than attack a wonderful book for not being more readily accessible.

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